A Sudden Ending
by ElizabethAnnFanfic
Summary: Post-episode fic for The Erlenmeyer Flask 1x23. Angst. Mulder and Scully ponder the meaning of the closing of the X-Files.


Timeline: 1x23 The Erlenmeyer Flask

Category: Post Episode

Mulder stretched out in his leather chair and scrubbed his face in the dark. He'd ended his call with her rather abruptly, because he couldn't stand to listen to her protests. The X-Files was shut down. Period. He knew at his core that he had to continue, but he was only just barely managing to keep a hold of himself as the reality sunk in. If he listened to his partner protest about the situation and insist that he do something—as if he had the power to do so—he wouldn't be able to keep it together much longer. He hated to disappoint her, if she'd been led to believe that anything they did mattered to the FBI. It tugged too much on his already thinly stretched heart-strings.

Strange to think that the declaration that he'd be separated from his partner was almost as much of a blow as the news that the X-Files were being shut down. Strange, because when she'd been assigned to him, he was ready to discount her entirely. How quickly things change. Now he'd have to get used to working alone again.

He'd grown accustomed to her. She was sharp and never failed to challenge him. He couldn't say as much about most people of the people he encountered. He'd been wary of her, believing her to be a plant, but she'd proven herself time and time again, despite her continued skepticism. Her scientific knowledge was a boon to the work, and he was convinced that in time with the proper evidence, Agent Scully would believe as he did. Now he was certain he'd never have the chance to uncover the truth with her. If he was going to do it, he'd have to go it alone.

She'd go back to teaching at the academy. It would be a more 'normal' existence for her, and maybe that's what was best in the long run. Working alongside him really wasn't a path towards fame and glory in the FBI. He truly was the FBI's most unwanted. There was no reason an agent with as much promise as Agent Scully should go down with his sinking ship. All the same, he was sorry to see her go. More so than he would have ever imagined he'd be.

And there'd really be no reason to see her anymore. He couldn't just call her up to see if she wanted to go to lunch. He didn't want to come off like he was asking her out; as if he'd only been awaiting his chance. But not seeing her was going to be a strange adjustment. His group of intimates was growing ever smaller, and she'd carved out a space in his world at a time when he'd assumed that he was permanently on the track to FBI agent recluse and all around personal failure.

Maybe he could call her from time to time. Even if she had originally been assigned to the X-Files in order to debunk his work, he was sure that she too was invested in the work. She cared about solving the cases. She wanted the truth. So, maybe he could still call her—about the work. Call her for assistance now and again. Get her professional opinion. Ask her to do an autopsy for him. That wouldn't be too much to ask. That wouldn't seem creepy and desperate. Mulder rolled his head back, staring at the ceiling in the dark: why the shit was he worried about coming off as a creep to his ex-partner? He reminded himself that it wasn't just a matter of being separated from his partner and removed from the X-files. It was more than just his own personal misfortune: the truth was at stake. People deserved the truth.

* * *

Dana threw off her comforter and slipped her feet into her slippers, heading for the kitchen. She needed a glass of water. Well, she needed a glass of wine, but she hadn't picked up a bottle from the store in ages, so water would have to do. At least it would be cool: right now she felt as if her insides were on fire.

Dana was rational and she liked to think of herself as fair and balanced. She'd been assigned to the X-Files and she'd decided to let science decide Fox Mulder's fate. Were his theories nonsense? Was the work a farce? Look for the evidence and make a fair judgment. And she'd done just that. And while she didn't believe as her partner did in alien life and grand government conspiracies, she was convinced that the X-Files had a place in the FBI. That her partner had a place in the FBI. She hadn't counted on the X-Files being shut down. Not when she'd done everything but debunk her partner's work. She couldn't always agree with his theories or his methods, but he was good at what he did and she liked to think that they made a good team. She was the yin to his yang.

She sipped from the water glass and leaned against the kitchen counter. He sounded calmer about the situation than she imagined he would. In fact, she seemed to be the truly shocked one. Perhaps that's because he was convinced someone was out to get him. So, it didn't come as some big surprise to him. But it was for her: she felt blindsided by it. She didn't think they could do that. It messed with her sense of fair play. She drained the glass and set it in the sink.

If the X-Files were closed and she was no longer partnered with Agent Mulder, she wasn't sure where that left her. Mulder would continue his quest, but what would she do? Go back to teaching? Pretend as if nothing had ever happened? That the things she saw and experienced were just a strange fairy book memory? Good soldiers do the job they're assigned, but it did seem a little anti-climatic. She'd been in the field. She'd worked alongside a personal legend in the force. How are you going to keep 'em down on the farm when they've seen the lights of…well, she'd seen some things. Just not Paris. Interesting scientific work could be done with the material in the X-Files. It really made her burn to think that she wouldn't be given the opportunity to continue with the work.

She didn't think she could fall back asleep, so she went to pull a book off her shelf and try to read until she was sleepy again. She glanced at the spines of the books. None of the titles appealed to her at the moment. Fiction seemed insipid and professional journals would only make her angrier at the moment. What she wanted to do was get dressed and march down to AD Skinner's office and shake her finger at him and use the tone of voice her Nana had when they were children. If only he'd be there at this hour of night.

Maybe she should have seen it coming too. Skinner had warned her. He'd tried to test her loyalty to her new partner. Maybe she was too damn naïve. She sighed and flopped into her overstuffed chair. Without wishing to succumb to Mulder's conspiracy theories, she had to admit that the deck seemingly had been stacked against him. Against them. She was getting accustomed to thinking along those lines.

So, she'd miss the work, but she had to say, she'd even miss her partner. She felt privileged to have been let into his world. His odd and sometimes juvenile world. He was clearly guarded…almost to the point of being paranoid. And she'd managed to win his trust. It wasn't the kind of accomplishment her father would have understood, but she still felt some pride in the fact that she'd cracked Agent Mulder's armor. Even if she still had to call him 'Mulder.' They'd connected in an unexpected way and now it all seemed for naught. The work was over and their partnership was at an end.

She yawned, covering her mouth. She comforted herself by thinking of Mulder's tenacity. He might sound calm, but she was convinced that he wouldn't be stopped by bureaucratic manipulations. He would continue. He would fight. And if anyone could get the X-Files reinstated, he could. He and his bullheaded persistence. Maybe all was not lost.


End file.
